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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26049820">Cool To The Touch (Sukouku Fanfic)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinaMargarita/pseuds/LinaMargarita'>LinaMargarita</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sukouku, 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dazai being vulnerable, Double Black, Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Mafia Dazai, Migraine, Sleep, bsd, bungou stray dogs - Freeform, dazai breaks into chuuya’s place (again), house visit, sick chuuya, sukouku - Freeform, tsundere sukouku</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:54:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,117</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26049820</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinaMargarita/pseuds/LinaMargarita</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The great King of The Sheep, now Port Mafia’s gravity manipulator Chuuya Nakahara has been utterly defeated by an unlikely enemy: a mind-numbing migraine.</p><p>And what does Dazai do? Well, he makes it worse of course, because that’s what closeted tsunderes that are in love do.</p><p>(Arahabaki causes Chuuya’s migraine, only Dazai’s No Longer Human can save him now.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>186</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Cool To The Touch (Sukouku Fanfic)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Fuck.” Was the only thing Chuuya can mutter under his circumstances; his eyes dart towards the ceiling, his breath is ragged, and his head is just absolutely daring him to just rip itself off as the pain radiated from his temples to his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nope, the world doesn’t need another suicidal bastard so get a grip</span></em>
  <span>, he thinks with his available brain cells; the ones not causing him a bother. He turns to lean on his left side, minding the area where the pain is so he didn’t accidentally put pressure on it, but it was no use; if anything it made things worse.</span>
</p><p>He’s alone in his king-sized bed, the light dimmed to the lowest setting as any source of brightness right now would trigger another surge of suffering all throughout his skull. </p><p>Chuuya was no stranger to migraines; in his line of work, where physical stress— along with the mental stress that came with being a certain shitty mackerel’s partner— caused him many headaches, figuratively and literally.</p><p>
  <span>Tonight is not great however; his head throbbed as if gravity was increasing it’s pressure and density. It was the kind that didn’t allow him to sleep because his eyes would ache with it as well. It felt very </span>
  <em>
    <span>different.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He mentally curses as he thinks hard about why this could be happening. The work week was pretty slow by mafia standards, and the only trouble Dazai caused was in that failed arms business meeting that almost got him killed, inexplicably triggering corruption. It was like </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> normal Sukouku mission.</span>
</p><p>So why? Did Dazai poison the takeout he bought a day ago? Did he drink something unpleasant, like something not wine?</p><p>But hey, you know what they say, speak of the devil and he shall appear.</p><p>
  <span>In this case though, Chuuya only needed to think of him. He hears the sound of his front door forcibly open, the blaring of his security system going crazy in his already aching head. Chuuya cups his hands desperately unto his ear, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking mackerel! He knows the passcode already yet he still picks the damn lock system!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>“I thought you were a genius, yet you don’t know how to open doors in a respectful way, you bastard?” He yells as the bedroom door opens, revealing a bandage roll with a shit-eating grin. The wheering of the alarm was now disabled, giving Chuuya momentary peace until the dull pain in his brain slowly turns up again.</p><p>He hates this so much. He’s face-to-face with the headache and the headache maker. Maybe he should’ve just ripped his head when he had the chance, after all.</p><p>“Now, now, chibi before you bark at your master like the bad dog you are…” Dazai’s cheery, mocking voice echo in the room and in Chuuya’s poor brain. “I heard you had a headache, so being the compassionate master that I am, I wanted to visit you!”</p><p>He didn’t tell anyone he had a headache, but Chuuya has no space in his mind to think about where Dazai could have bugged him right now. He closes his eyes to the sound of Dazai rummaging through the plastic bag he brought with him, hoping to end this hell of a bad dream. The fact that he can’t come up with witty remarks against Dazai was bad enough as it, but allowing him to do whatever the hell he wanted while Chuuya‘s incapacitated? Absolutely-fucking-not.</p><p>His thoughts are interrupted by something cold and wet landing on his forehead with a soft smack. “Oi! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” </p><p>His eyes dart open, colliding with brown irises that display emotions Chuuya’s never actually seen in the cold, calculating half of Sukouku. It’s like Dazai was looking at something fragile; something that could break if mishandled.</p><p>Chuuya’s only seen it once but he hates it already. He wasn’t fragile; if anything, Dazai was physically weaker between the both of them. It was evident in all the missions they’ve had so far; and it was absolutely evident in the recent one that they screwed up.</p><p>Dazai’s smart mouth had struck the wrong chord with the boss of one of their arms dealers for the Port Mafia. It was part of the plan though, as the boss wanted them gone due to the subpar weapons shipment they’ve been providing for the third time this month.</p><p>
  <span>What they didn’t expect though was the man, fully-clothed in a tailored designer suit, would raise a gun to Dazai’s face, pulling the trigger faster than Chuuya could react. He made him stand by the door, emphasizing that his </span>
  <em>
    <span>little dog brain</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn’t have enough space to understand such negotiations.</span>
</p><p>Thankfully, Dazai was an expert at dodging Chuuya’s impulsive kicks and punches. He managed to only scrape his cheek. </p><p>Still, that little attempt was enough to trigger the beast inside Chuuya, and the rest was utter darkness before he came to and realized that he had obliterated the entire building.</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I need to stop thinking, I swear my head’s gonna explode any minute</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Chuuya lets out a groan as he rests his arm over his eyes. Suddenly, a certain brightness enters his sight, as if a flash bomb was just thrown into his apartment. “Dazai, you piece of shit, turn off the light!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No can do, Chibi! I’m heating up some soup for you! You don’t want me </span>
  <em>
    <span>accidentally</span>
  </em>
  <span> putting rat poison instead of salt in here don’t you?” Chuuya can feel what little remaining color he has drain from his face. </span>
</p><p>He always thought he’d die in a fight somewhere, adrenaline and corruption coursing through his veins. But now, it was either he dies because there was something wrong with his brain, or he dies because he was poisoned by mackerel soup. It’s honestly a lose-lose.</p><p>“I don’t want your damned poison soup!” He lets out, but it‘s too late now that Dazai’s back from his kitchen, a tray of soup and water in hand. Even though he absolutely wants to throw the shitty presence in front of him a few towns over, he politely sits up, accommodating the taller man as he sets the tray beside him, sitting with his legs crossed, grin still as smug and asshole-ish as ever.</p><p>“See? You can be a cooperative doggie when you try!” If his head wasn’t being such a prick right now, this even bigger prick would have been drop-kicked out of the window already, like usual. But Chuuya decides to shut up instead because he knows.</p><p>He knows that behind the edged words that his asshole of a partner spews out is the genuine concern he has for Chuuya, and it’s evident in the good-smelling soup in front of him. He suddenly remembers that he hadn't had any dinner, being in bed the whole evening.</p><p>Chuuya shoots Dazai a suspicious glance, before taking a tentative spoonful of the meal. He expects himself to just choke and die of a stroke in his bed, but what he gets is the rich blend of spices and the umami taste of chicken all combined in a soup that was not too hot or cold— perfect and warm enough for his liking.</p><p>He lets out a hum of approval. “For a shitty mackerel, this isn’t such a shitty soup.” He looks at Dazai for a moment, and he swore he could see the giddy smile bubble up in him for a split second, only to be masked with a cold grin, like the demon that he was. “For a dog, you have pretty good taste.” </p><p>Chuuya eats in silence, having no energy to respond to Dazai’s constant banter. Dazai seems to get the gist, as he lets him eat in relative peace and quiet, save for the weird glances he would throw at Chuuya when he thought the other couldn’t see because he was busy chowing down his soup— but the thing is, he can see. </p><p>“Oi, Dazai. Can you grip my hair?”</p><p>Dazai flinches before opening his mouth slowly. “Excuse me? What do you want me to do?”</p><p><em><span>Oh shit,</span></em> <em><span>that was a weirdass request</span></em><span>, Chuuya gulps as he realizes the </span><em><span>implications </span></em><span>of what he was asking Dazai to do. He removes the wet towel stuck to his forehead while Dazai stares at him like he’s grown a second nose.</span></p><p>Should he backpedal and just tell him the truth? He doesn’t have the heart to tell Dazai that his head is now doing worse than when his partner arrived, so he opts to be vague about it.</p><p>“Grip and pull my hair slowly. They say it gets rid of the pain.” Chuuya’s voice is quieter now. It’s a que that this time, he wasn’t joking around. </p><p>A minute of silence before he feels the bed dip and the sensation of warm hands brush his cheek. His heart is aching and beating worse than his head now, and for a moment, he thinks he might actually die of a heart attack instead. The gentle pair of hands make their way to his hair, and Chuuya can feel the sensation of bandages brushing against his forehead before a quick and stinging tug.</p><p>
  <span>“Oi! Don’t be so rough that you end up pulling my hair out!” He grits his teeth as his partner pulls lets out little </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> happy chuckle. “Oops, my bad.” He can feel Dazai’s grin telling him that </span>
  <em>
    <span>yep</span>
  </em>
  <span> that was definitely no accident. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shitty bastard.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns his back against Dazai, momentarily weirded out by the fact that he can’t seem to face the shitty bastard or keep his heartbeat under control. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What the hell, it’s only Dazai! You’ve done worse than this! You've bragged to each other in the shower when you were 15. Get a grip</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then, it was as if Dazai’s hands were some sort of miracle drug. The longer his partner’s hands lingered on his hair, caressing it softly, the lesser the pain there was emanating from his skull. It was replaced with a soothing, cool feeling that he knew all </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> well. </span>
</p><p>It was the feeling of No Longer Human on his skin. It felt like one of those days where Dazai needed to put Arahabaki to sleep once more, effectively laying Chuuya to rest.</p><p>It felt peaceful, but it never really lingered since Chuuya always passed out after Corruption. Tonight, for unknown reasons, he savors every last drop of it, every pull at his scalp producing a calming symphony that he selfishly did not want to let go of, even if it came from his bandaged freak of a partner.</p><p>“You used corruption longer than usual days ago.” Chuuya doesn’t realize how close Dazai is to him, not until he hears the man’s breathing against his ear, making him shiver. What makes him shiver more though is the fact that Dazai answers his questions and he doesn’t even need to ask.</p><p>Dazai takes his partner’s silence as a beckoning to continue. “When you trashed the building, I had a hard time getting to you.” Chuuya’s breath hitches as he hears the silent crack in his partner’s voice; nothing of the usual cocky mouthfuls he spouts when he tells Chuuya to follow his commands because he knows better.</p><p>“I was so afraid.”</p><p>Chuuya can hear his literal heart shatter. He hates Dazai so much he could kill him, sure, but he hates him more when he‘s like this; guilty and small—- a painful reminder that even though he’s the demon prodigy of the mafia, at the end of the day, he’s still a lonely child who carries the weight of his plans that could end up in a failure. They‘re just two children inexplicably bonded by their need for each other.</p><p>
  <span>That’s evident now more than ever. With shaking hands, Chuuya takes Dazai’s hand from his scalp, earning a little bit of resistance, the supposed-genius of the two not figuring out where this was going. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just give me your hand, you idiot, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and as if the mackerel was reading his mind like an open book, he gives Chuuya his hand voluntarily. The redhead laces it around his petite waist, choosing to dutifully ignore the thumping he can hear from the other’s chest rivalling his own.</span>
</p><p>If Arahabaki is indeed causing this terrible headache due to his prolonged use of Corruption, then Chuuya is thankful for the strong, but gentle arm wrapped around him for being the cure that he needs. </p><p>
  <span>Chuuya yawns, sleep finally beckoning him after a hard night, and the last thing he feels is the soft pair of lips at the back of his head and the feeling of </span>
  <em>
    <span>melting</span>
  </em>
  <span> when he hears Dazai say</span>
</p><p>“Have a good rest, Chuuya.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Heyo! So this is one of my first one-shots and I wrote this tonight in one sitting because I actually have a mind-numbing migraine. And what do I do? I look at my phone and make it worse, yes. </p><p>Anyways!! I will be updating the final chapter Deadly Dance very soon, and I hope you can support me in my other, non-migraine induced fics! Hehe imma go hibernate on twt my acc’s @chuuyaskitty ok goodnight ^^</p></blockquote></div></div>
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